


Of Hunters & Wolves: He's Not So Bad

by OhAlleykitten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Hunters, M/M, Manhandling, Power Play, Sexual Tension, Underage Character, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:13:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhAlleykitten/pseuds/OhAlleykitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott needs help saving Derek, but after everything that's happened, is Argent friend, or foe? This is set after the Season 2 finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Hunters & Wolves: He's Not So Bad

Scott was looking for Allison. He had run all the way to her house and his chest was heaving from the effort in spite of his wolf stamina. Derek was back in the den with an arrow in his chest. An arrow that looked exactly like one he had seen one time in the Argents’ arsenal.  It was spiked in some way that made it hard to pull out and it seemed like it may have been laced with something that was now leaking poison into Derek's body.

If memory served, Allison was now the Argents’ primary archer.

He scaled the side of her house to her second floor bedroom window, and pushed it open. Climbing inside he saw it was empty. The faint smell of roses mingled with hairspray hit his nose and he felt an ache in his chest. How could relationships dissolve so suddenly? I didn’t seem fair.

            “Dammit, Allison! Where are you?!” He said out loud to the empty room.

He ran across the hallway and down the stairs to the main room of her home. All was quiet. He racked his brain for another option when his phone buzzed. It was Stiles (of course).

            _Did you find her? Derek isn’t looking so good_ _._

This was typical Stiles. _Obviously Derek wouldn't be looking good, he’s only kind of being poisoned at the moment! Thanks for that great bit of information_. Scott thought to himself, shaking his head.

He moved through the house to the garage where the Argents kept all of their weapons. Maybe if he could find the arrows, they could help Derek. It had worked once before when Kate Argent had hit him with a special bullet loaded with Wolf’s Bane.

He texted Stiles back

            _she’s not here-looking for the arrows_

Stiles would just have to deal. He was the idea man anyway, but he could be really co-dependent sometimes. Scott really didn’t have time to hold Stiles’ hand through this right now. He considered himself more the action man. A lover _and_ a fighter. He executed all of the great ideas…and, well, maybe some not-so-great-ideas sometimes too.

Once inside the garage, he opened the Argent’ arsenal cage that held the compound bows and archery gear, looking for something… _anything_ even if there was just a clue. He didn’t see anything that looked like the arrow jammed inside Derek’s torso right now. What he did see was a gap. A space where it looked like some arrows, as well as a bow, had been not too long before. There was a slight impression of them in the velvet surface of the case.

_She still has them on her!_ He thought.

Suddenly he felt something. Signaled by a prickle on the back of his neck. It was so subtle, like a shift in the air around him. He could _feel_ a living presence behind him, and then caught a whiff of a man’s scent, seconds before he turned and found Allison’s father, Mr. Argent blocking the only exit.

            “You want to tell me what you’re doing in here right now, Scott.” His voice sounded weary but determined “And why I shouldn’t shoot you for trespassing, right now” He was aiming one of his many semi-automatic assault rifles toward Scott’s chest.

            “Uh, Mr. Argent” Scott faltered, freezing into place, he never seemed to have the same access to the vault of clever responses that Stiles seemed to have an unlimited supply of.

             “I…uh, well…please don’t shoot me?” he said putting both palms up, it came out oddly like a question “I was just trying to help…uh, someone. I _think_ Allison may have shot him. And I think, pretty strongly actually, that this time, he could die.” He waited.

Argent looked at Scott for another beat before lowering the rifle. Slowly and deliberately he stepped closer to Scott until Scott could see the few strands of silver in his hair in places and could easily make out the sound of his heart beating. Scott noted it sounded fast and he wondered if Argent was afraid of him, since now he knew Scott was a werewolf… or if he was just worried about shooting him.

Argent maintained eye contact with him the whole time as he moved closer, and Scott found himself trying to remember whether or not they had ever been alone together since Argent had discovered he was a werewolf.

Scott was reminded of the way a hunter keeps his eyes on his prey in the wild, and thought it was ironic that the same thing that happens in the jungle was happening in a garage in suburbia. His body tensed and he felt the urge to shift into a stronger position…as a wolf. He felt more nervous the closer Argent came, every hair on his body was on end, but he held his ground and didn’t move.

Moving beyond the conventional  norms of personal space boundaries, until he and Scott were only centimeters apart from each other, Argent reached past Scott’s chest, close enough that the sleeve of his jacket lightly brushed against Scott’s cheek in the process, and closed the cage door firmly. He actually, most definitely, did _not_ seem to be afraid of him.

            “What friend?” He asked quietly “Is it Derek? Or someone else?”

            Argent was still standing uncomfortably close to him. Scott could feel the warmth from his body emitting in the small space between them. He realized he had been  holding his breath and exhaled sharply. When he inhaled again he caught a wave of Argent’s after shave which was surprisingly pleasant. He felt a tug in his groin which he deliberately ignored.

            “Derek” Scott admitted reluctantly “But can’t you see?! She’s on a revenge mission! She blames Derek for what happened to her--“ he faltered again “—to your wife. She can’t just run around trying to kill people!”

He searched Argent’s eyes for some kind of acknowledgement and realized he was on the verge of pleading for help, or at the least for him not to interfere. The truth was, he was in over his head and _this_ man _was_ the specialist.

            “You have to help me stop her!” The words burst out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying. This was Allison’s _father_ , after all. Why would he help him save Derek? He probably blamed Derek too. He was also a HUNTER himself. A hunter who hated werewolves.

Argent gave a little gasp of surprise, and Scott realized he was gripping Argent’s arms with both hands. The first one to breach the invisible no-touch zone. The first one to cause all of the wattage building up during their alpha-male-antlers-up-stare-down to now flow freely, connecting them. Argent pulled his arms back uncertainly from Scott’s aggressive grasp, but seemed unsure of where to place them now. He dropped one of them to his side but the other one tried to press Scott back a bit but somehow ended up rested against Scott’s hip bone for a moment, unwittingly sending shockwaves through Scott’s body.

With Argent manhandling his anatomy like that, Scott felt his stance begin to weaken. He had never held up well against strong male authority figures (Derek did NOT count) and his fight-or-flight response was beginning to shift into something a lot closer to arousal.

            _You’re an Alpha, Scott._ He reminded himself. _Get it together, you can handle him._

He wondered how he had never noticed how much Argent resembled Allison in the bone structure, only older.

            _Much older._ He reminded himself. _And a man_. He silently added.

_But still really attractive_. He thought and then shook his head. He was getting way off track, and Stiles would be blowing up his phone soon.

He was always so distracted by sexy things, especially since the bite.

Scott moved his brown eyes back up to Mr. Argent’s stern face, completely unaware of a subtle pelvic tilt he made towards the hunter, as he placed his own hand over the hand Mr. Argent had on his hip. Argent was looking at him differently now. And it was a heady mixture that looked like lust and incredulity with a healthy dose of fear thrown in. His breathing had gone shallow and his body was taut with restraint.

Scott felt like his pants were suddenly growing tighter than they had been when he’d entered. He didn’t need to look down to see what was happening. He _really_ hoped Argent wouldn’t notice. Maybe he was going to have to fight-or-flight it after all.

            “Please.” He added, but felt his voice dropping lower and growing husky. He was really starting to think he was going to have to bolt out of there soon.

            “Scott-”  Argent’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat, though Scott could hear the hard swallowing he was doing now “I’m not sure what you want from me. Allison is the director now, with both her mother and Kate….ah well, you KNOW I have no lost love for Derek and we both know that he’s dangerous and needs to be taken ou-.”

            “No _WE_ don’t both know that!” Scott interrupted him, willing himself to sound commanding and not whiney. “What WE DO know is that Allison is not just some mercenary, hell-bent on some INSANE revenge mission…I mean…she IS that right now, but that’s not WHO she is.”

Scott felt himself leaning in closer to Argent again, wanting that scent, wanting the hands on him. He found himself drawn to the look of need on Argent’s face. Scott’s dick was now rock hard, and he felt an unusual wave of submission crash over him. He wanted to wrap his arms around him and press in against him, but he grabbed the front of Argent’s jacket instead.

            “MR. ARGENT, you HAVE to help me. We HAVE to save Derek and then we HAVE to save Allison--from herself --before she’s too far gone!” He felt his phone vibrating again, and Scott was feeling wound up like a top. He _needed_ Argent to help him fix this, and, well it’s not like none of it was Argent’s fault anyway.

***

Argent hesitated, unsure of his next move. He liked Scott, actually, and not just as a boy for his daughter. He liked his character, and that he was impulsive and strong and passionate about his life. All desirable male traits.

            _Even more surprising actually, considering he’s been raised by a single mom_. He thought.

But this was (he could honestly say) easily the most intimate proximity he had ever shared with a werewolf. And he had _no idea_ how to proceed. The old Argent would have gutted him with a knife at this close of range and then took his head off. But this seemed wrong now… somehow. It seemed _different_ here with this younger man that he actually liked.

Still, he didn’t know what Scott’s trigger could be. What could set off the wolf change, turning Argent into his prey? He _looked_ young enough to be harmless but Argent knew better.

And then this, this _other_ thing. This—sex—thing. Argent cringed mentally at the way his body was responding right now. It (he) was clearly turned on. He could feel the blood rushing in his ears. His tendons nearly snapping from the force of restraint. But where had this feeling _come_ from? Aside from a _very_ drunken escapade one night in his 20s, he was emphatically heterosexual.

And yet, the urge was to accept the offering. It _was_ being offered, wasn’t it?

Scott’s expression was authentic, his pupils were dilated and his cheeks were flushed . Argent had never thought him to be very good at deception. And his grip on Argent’s jacket was strong. Argent felt Scott’s forearms pressing vertically flush against his chest. But why was he having this response to Scott? Because he had never felt a pull like this from another man. Especially from an alpha male…even a baby alpha.

Argent was pretty certain that “this” had originated with Scott somehow. And that he was on the verge of “catching” it.

Had it? Maybe. Maybe not.

            “Hey!” he commanded, mustering as much authority as possible “Settle down!”

He grabbed Scott’s arms to release his grip on his jacket. They were lean but surprisingly well muscled under his grip. He felt aware of the scent of cinnamon gum mixed with sweat and shampoo and noticed a small patch of stubble on his jaw that he’d carelessly missed with his razor.         

            “Let go of me!” Scott pushed his arms up, shaking off Argent’s grip and moved to shove him backward. “You’re not _listening_!! Derek’s going to DIE! I know it doesn’t mean much to you, but it means something to ME. He’s my brother now. I can’t sit here and do nothing!”

Argent anticipated the shove and moved to restrain Scott, resulting in both their arms interlocking in a hard, tight embrace. Argent felt an erection (not his) pressing into his thigh and felt his own dick start getting harder. He tightened his arms for a minute feeling Scott panting into his chest, until he felt the teen release his hold in surrender.

Scott now seemed to melt in against him, almost sweetly, slipping his arms around Argent’s waist, breathing softly against him, saying nothing.

Argent closed his eyes, relieved there had been no growling or biting, or werewolf changes requiring shooting-or of any kind. He decided to ignore the other thing. He held Scott against him for a moment or two. Then moving his hand up into Scott’s hair , he grabbed a fistful of it and tilted his head back.

            “Take me to Derek. I know how to help him. We’ll deal with Allison later”

Scott’s eyes widened in surprise, then broke into small grateful smile of relief.

They broke apart, both of them shrugging off their erections. Not saying another word. Argent slung his rifle over his shoulder and Scott texted Stiles back as they left the garage.

            _caught by argent says he can help tell Derek were on our way- ps hes not so bad_

           

 

 


End file.
